Is Social Media Making Us the Worst Ever?

It happened two weeks ago. I had just boarded a flight on a popular airline when I realized there was a reddish, brownish smear on my leather seat. And not a small smear, like one that could be mistaken for an ink stain or a rogue blob of ketchup but one that made me think that* maybe* someone had gotten her period on the flight just before mine and maybe used the seat cushion as an accidental maxi pad. "I think there might be...blood...on...my seat?" I said to the flight attendant standing in the aisle. Without flinching, she handed me a bottle of water and a paper towel and walked away. The plane was full, so without anywhere to relocate, I rolled up my sleeves to wipe up the mess, annoyed and grossed-out. And that's when it occurred to me: "I should take a photo and tweet this."

This reaction is laughable for a few reasons. To start, I do not have a gazillion social media followers. A tweet of my bloody-looking seat would probably reach my sister, a few work colleagues, and a small army of spambots. Not exactly the makings of a corporate take-down. And then, even if I did tweet the image to the airline in hopes of a response, how could that response possibly add meaning to my life? What was I looking for—a sincere apology from a customer service representative? A free flight? Unlimited movies and neck pillows? Or could I have been searching for something even uglier: A Dutch study of over 2,000 social media complaints found that 23 percent of people who use social media to air their grievances do so only out of vengeance.

I'm happy to report that instead of writing my senseless tweet, I wiped up the whatever it was on my seat, turned my phone off, and took a nap. By the time the flight touched down in Miami, my annoyance had subsided, and I was mostly concerned with getting off the plane and next to a pool as fast as humanly possible. But I still hate that I even thought about it, that it even crossed my mind to whip out my iPhone and be such an obnoxious, self-righteous psycho.

Addressing customer complaints on social media has become a major task for companies. Research by VentureBeat's VB Insight found that we complain 879 million times a year via social media. Users complain about Facebook on Facebook, which is kind of like complaining about Starbucks while downing a tall Frappuccino. Disrupted cable service, a lukewarm burrito, longer-than-usual lines—these small offenses have made businesses targets for online whining. No wonder companies are starting to suffer from social burn-out: According to a study from the Center for Marketing Research at the University of Massachusetts Dartmouth, 59 percent of companies monitor their mentions on social media—down from 70 percent in 2010.

COME AGAIN?

Social media hasn't just made us tattletales and complainers—it's also made us speak like we're verbally confined to 140 characters or less, like we're preserving the delicate skin around our mouths by not forming too many syllables. I was out to dinner with a group of friends last month, when, for the first time, I heard the phrase, "You should Gram that!" Huh? Gram that*? "Yeah, you know, Instagram it. Gram it!" This was a 30-year-old woman with a very expensive education talking. "I can't believe you just said that," I told her, laughing. "I know," she said, picking out a filter. "I heard it from my sister. It's so bad."*Most of us know that speaking in LOLs and OMGs makes us sound something like Cher from Clueless. But what used to be a joke is starting to drift into everyday conversation. Grown-ups should not speak in hashtags. "Hashtag so tired right now." "Hashtag hilarious." "Hashtag WTF." WTF indeed.

In his book Super Sad True Love Story, author Gary Shteyngart pokes fun at the sadly super-true way we speak, thanks to social acronyms. One of the characters in his dystopian novel, a 20-something named Eunice Park, speaks in exaggerated (but still kind of believable) abbreviations. TIMATOV. PRGV. JBF. Her older friend Lenny Abramov is equal parts puzzled and amused by this weird language: "I think you said ROFLAARP in Rome. Does that mean Rolling on Floor Looking at Addictive Rodent Pornography?"

We're not all that much better than Eunice. IRL ("In real life") has become a completely acceptable thing not just to type but to say. Our language is getting shorter, simpler, and more exclusionary of older people, who know a whole lot about real life, but might have no idea what IRL means. Texting is partially responsible as well, but there's no denying that social media has accelerated the deterioration of language. We have forgotten one of the first lessons our parents taught us: "Use your words."

SHINY, HAPPY PEOPLE

Our online lives, for the most part, are perfect. Sunsets and lattes, red lips and champagne flutes. These lives are curated, a beautiful gallery pulled from an iCloud of images, a highlight reel from an otherwise ordinary movie. We project the inspired and exceptional because why wouldn't we? It makes us feel good to look good. "Here I am," we seem to say. "Aren't I wonderful?"

The problem with this is that we are actually making each other miserable with all this self-indulgent perfection. A University of Michigan study found that Facebook actually makes us sad and lonely. From the study: "The more people used Facebook at one time point, the worse they felt.... The more they used Facebook over two weeks, the more their life satisfaction levels declined over time." College-age social media users report an increase in anxiety related to social media use, largely over competition or fear of missing out (yes, there's an acronym for that too: "FOMO.") And yet, smartphone users check Facebook around 14 times a day.

Social media can also spark jealousy. A U.K. study of 1,500 people found that 62 percent of people felt "inadequate or jealous" after looking on social media and comparing their lives with the projected lives of others. German researchers also found that seeing all those vacation photos, promotion announcements, and mushy romantic posts also can make us envious—and miserable. "Passive following triggers invidious emotions, with users mainly envying happiness of others, the way others spend their vacations and socialize," wrote the researchers in the report.

Fakeness, for the most part, is considered a negative quality. But in our news feeds, it's accepted—even the norm. We see beautiful photos of a baby in a cashmere blanket, but not the 2 A.M. hysterical meltdown, and that's OK. We look at the view from our friend's new corner office but not his crazy, tyrannical boss, and we're good with that. We "like" images as a sign of support—a social contract that says, You scratch my social ego, and I'll scratch yours. We might even feel guilty not hitting that button. It seems like everyone is complaining about social media these days, but most of us are still participating, because we're afraid of what might happen if we're not a part of it. The perfect, faux world we've constructed is driving us all bananas, but we're in no rush to tear it down.

ME, MY SELFIE, AND I

It's hard to disregard the selfie, a photo so groundbreaking, it has it's own name. It even has a popular cousin, the "usie," which pains me a little to type. But here's the the truth about selfies: People post them to get approval. It's OK. We all want approval, even if we don't always admit it. But there's almost no other reason to post an image by oneself of oneself online for hundreds, maybe thousands, or even millions of people to see. The Kim Kardashians and Lady Gagas of the world might get paid for their self-portraits, but for the rest of social media users, it's no money and all vanity.

The selfie could be celebrated as a means of self-expression, or a way to show acceptance or pride over one's body, and that's reasonable. But many of these images seem less about self-empowerment, and more about neediness. We've all seen the post-workout selfie (#cantstopwontstop), the makeup-free selfie (#iwokeuplikethis), the cringe-worthy bathroom-mirror selfie, always taken from the side (#gettingready). But...why? Why do we feel the need to post photos of our sweaty sports bras and our sucked-in bellies? When will women finally get tired of contorting themselves into that position—you know the one, butt out, head back, hand on hip— as if desperately asking a group of acquaintances, "Do you see me? Do you like what you see?"

ON THE BRIGHT SIDE

Perhaps one of the best things that's come out of our need to be connected is that, if nothing else, social media has made us more aware of the world around us. Hashtag activism has had its critics; the argument is that by tweeting #BringBackOurGirls or more recently, #JeSuisCharlie, we are not actually doing all that much, and yet we get to feel that we are. I would argue the opposite—that showing solidarity via social media creates a unified stance against injustice.

There have been other positive uses of social media, perhaps the most memorable of which being this summer's Ice Bucket Challenge. The viral video campaign raised $220 million for ALS, according to the ALS Association, gaining the attention of the most influential social media users—including President Obama.

Our real challenge might not be stepping away from social media but rethinking the way we use it. In a world that's increasingly about our personal brands and not personally connecting, we have found a way to make all those "likes" and "shares" worth something, whether to support social causes or draw attention to issues that matter to us. That's a step in the right direction, considering that a feed filled with selfies and complaints is entirely self-serving.

And what could be more anti-social than that?

There are lots of other social media offenses: using it to argue in a nonconstructive way about politics, the Facebook breakup (yikes!), asking people to play Farm Candy Whatever You Call It. What are some of your social media peeves? Share in the comments!